and had a firm will and dauntless
mind, but she was too weak to contend
against France, and was forced to become
twice the queen of the country to which she
brought Brittany as her dower. She adored
her Breton home and her Breton people, and
was proud of the power of her navy: to her
may be ascribed the honour of having first
furnished a navy to France; and she it was
who, at her own expense, built some of the
finest ships which had ever appeared in the
French seas, her husband, Louis the Twelfth,
being straitened in his means in consequence
of the expenses of his Italian wars, for he was
busy at this time in conquests over the
Venetians, the Milanese, and the Pope.

The Queen had instituted an order for ladies,
called the Cordelière, which was famous in
her time, for several reasons: the chief was,
that no lady could be admitted into it whose
character did not stand on the very highest
pinnacle of female excellence, for Anne of
Brittany had so purified the court during her
two reigns, that such virtue and propriety
was never before known in France as during
her time; and to be one of her maids of honour
was enough to prove that lions, according to
an ancient belief, would at once lie down tame
at the feet of these Unas. All the nobles of
the period strove, and clamoured, and
petitioned to be allowed to choose wives from
amongst this band of beautiful perfections,
and it was Queen Anne who regulated all the
marriages of her ladies of the Cordelière.

The word was a talisman throughout
France; and even now, carved on many a
palace wall at Amboise, at Tours, at Loches,
and elsewhere, may be seen the Queen's
cognisance, as famous in its way as the salamander
of Francis the First. When, therefore, Anne
commanded one of the most magnificent and
powerful vessels that had ever been built in
the docks of Brest, to be sent forth to aid her
husband's navy, she christened it " La
Cordelière," and gave the command of it to one of
her chief captains, the bold and gallant
Breton, Herué Primoguet.

The English had been committing many
wanton ravages on the coast, and hitherto the
French fleet, commanded by a celebrated
captain named Prégent, had vainly sought
to chastise them, although they had ventured
far into the English seas with the hope and
intention of doing so. The English admiral,
and his ships—elated with success—came
boldly down upon his adversaries, and it was
then that Captain Primoguet and his gallant
Cordelière first encountered him: a desperate
engagement ensued, but the English
vessels were numerous, and the Cordelière
and her companions, could not stand against
so many, and were unwillingly obliged to
sail away, pursued hotly by the English
admiral to the very entrance of the bay of
Brest.

Primoguet was deeply mortified at this, and
swore that, as soon as his vessels were
repaired, he would lead them forth again, and
either bring the English admiral's ship, the
Regent, prisoner into port, or perish in the
attempt.

It was on St. Laurence's day, in the
year fifteen hundred and thirteen, that
Primoguet sailed out of port, directing his
course to where he hoped to find the
Regent, which he was not long in doing. No
sooner did the two fleets come in sight of
each other, than they prepared for a desperate
affray. There was, however, a great
inequality in the forces; for the French had
but twenty vessels, all small, except the
Cordelière;  and the English had no less
than eighty, most of them of infinitely larger
size. This, however, did not deter the
French from attacking; and it soon became
known that the English admiral was so
severely wounded that he was carried away
and landed on the English coast, where he
shortly afterwards died of the injuries he had
received. The combat went on more furiously
than ever, and several English vessels were
disabled or sunk: at length the Regent,
and the Cordelière approached each other
near enough to grapple. The crews of both
vessels fought with the utmost fury, but at
length that of the Regent, finding that
there was no other hope of saving their ship,
from their topmast cast fire into the
Cordelière, which almost instantly burst into
flames.

The French sailors, seeing that there was
no possibility of extinguishing the fire, and
aware that there was no other chance for
life, threw themselves into the sea in the
hope of escaping by swimming; but
Captain Primoguet,—resolving that, if his
gallant Cordelière must be destroyed, the
Regent should share her fate,—turned
the burning side of his vessel to the wind in
such a manner that the flames must reach
the enemy. This terrific manoeuvre took
effect, and both ships were enveloped in the
same conflagration.

In sight of the rest of the fleet, whose
hostilities were suspended as they gazed in
agonised commiseration on this terrible
catastrophe, the vessels burnt on to the water's
edge. Primoguet lingered as long as possible
on the topmast head, till, finding it giving
way, he cast himself, " all armed as he was,"
says the historian, D'Argentré, "into the
boiling sea, and was drowned in spite of all
efforts to save him, his heavy armour
preventing his swimming."

THE ROVING ENGLISHMAN.

THE CADI.

THE CADI is an august apparition, and I
sit in a kiosch or summer-house, which
overlooks the sea, conversing with him. We are
having one of those dear dreamy conversations
that I used to love in old time, when I